i would like to sleep
in a flowerbed
pansies cushioning my head
for all the thoughts
i bought from a freelance writer
the last time i pulled an all nighter on my own
you wanted to talk on the phone
so i did
but i had nothing to say for myself
i nodded and smiled like you could see me
and worried about my mental health, again
my drunk honeysuckle fingers slurred
over the power button
and they cut you off
before i had to pay for another word
i really can’t afford to be so shy
cut through the brambles of telephone lines
put your hand in mine
and we’ll sleep a hundred years
and keep the thorns for souvenirs
i wish my voice didnt sound so dumb
but now the stitches of my vocal chords have come undone
and i don’t feel like spinning thread today
so i embroider every word i didn’t want to say
in pink and blue
on my faux punk jacket
and use it to cover you
sweet dreams